


seeds of a pear tree

by riverright



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bath Sex, F/M, Light Smut, Parenthood, little bit of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverright/pseuds/riverright
Summary: Sandor goes to his first all out dance recital. There's a schedule and a concert hall and nutty dance moms and he doesn't quite fit in (the seats) but he's there.Baby's first fic! Inspired by the many amazing sansan fics I've read. Started writing this shortly after the s8 finale and then quarantine got me to finish it. be kind x
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 61





	seeds of a pear tree

“I sincerely hope I’m not smelling gin coming from that side of the pew, Arya.” Catelyn Stark looked pointedly at her youngest daughter who turned from her brother to roll her eyes at her mother.  
“Course not mum, honestly who do you think I am?”  
“The kind of person who might sneak a flask into her niece’s dance recital.”  
Rickon snickered between the two women, before a light thump on his thigh brought him up short. Arya shot him a glare before lifting her eyes to look at Catelyn.  
“Well that’d be a bit rude innit? Unless of course, you were looking for something to make the next three hours go by a bit faster. Then I’m sure we could scrounge up something to satisfy you. There’s a bar out front I think.” The brunette grinned as her mother shut her eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.  
“Just keep it quiet would you? And mind your brother. May I remind you he is not of age, and I don’t need him copying your antics.” Catelyn angled her body back towards the stage and dug through her bag for her phone. The lights were meant to be dimming soon and she still hadn’t seen Sansa make her way into the hall. Behind her, she recognized the sound of metal spinning against metal and sighed. At least it was in a flask.

***

On the other side of the building, Sandor Clegane thought, not for the first time that day, about how much he’d rather be at the pub instead of a concert hall, surrounded by anxious dance moms and their hyperactive children. He flipped the.. playbill? Brochure? He wasn’t quite sure what to call the booklet that listed the dance company names and their performance orders he held in his hands, clearly another sign he should be at the pub like a normal Thursday evening. He flipped it back and forth while he waited outside the ladies room trying not to look like a pervert. Honestly, the barkeep would’ve probably muted the damn announcers if he’d asked.

“Oh you look lovely, sweet pea. Won’t you go show daddy? I know he’s so excited to see you before you go on stage.” Her voice carried out of the washroom and over the din of children squealing and Sandor smirked, thinking she was laying it on a bit thick.

“Daddy doesn’t care. I don’t care. I wanna go home Mama and I wanna go home now!” A light stamp on the ground, like a cat leaping off a chair. He frowned. Maybe it wasn’t thick enough.

“Oh honey, that’s not true. Daddy does care, he cares loads. And I know you do too, think of all that time we spent practicing!” Hands twirling in the sunshine and light giggles came to Sandor’s mind, but were chased away by a whine.

“It was stupid. This is stupid. You’re stu-“ Sandor cleared his throat and knocked on the door, reminding him an awful lot of his brief stint as a bouncer years ago. The room went quiet except for a small sniffle that echoed like a hammer in his heart. A soft patter to the door, a resigned sigh and the door opened. His eyes first sought Sansa, standing back with her arms crossed, delicate hands grasping elbows. She looked defeated, her eyes not quite meeting his. His attention was brought downward as small hands grabbed at his upper leg. 

“Daddy, please take me home, Mama won’t and I don’t want to be here, please Daddy, please!” His daughter rubbed her face into his thigh, muffling some of her words. Sansa pinched her nose, squeezed her eyes shut and leaned back against the wall of the room. Sandor felt a wee bit out of his element. He was normally the mean one since Sansa was basically a perpetual ray of sunshine. Most days at least. Sandor coughed, looked at Sansa who’s eyes were still closed, and knelt down to meet their five year old’s eyes.

“Isla, I won’t take you home either. Mama’s right, you’ve worked so hard this year, why don’t you want to show off to everyone? Your Auntie Arya is even here to watch you dance.” He gave her a small smile, tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Hoped the mention of his idiot sister-in-law might do the trick. She pushed at his shoulders, trying to knock him off balance.

“Daddy please,” she dragged out the e’s, just like Sansa did when she got clingy, “I don’t wanna dance.” Her face was red, angry. Her eyebrows were pulled so far down he could barely see her eyes and her bottom lip was red from gnawing at it. 

“Oh sweetheart, why don’t you want to dance today? You love dancing.” Sansa implored, walking forward, moving the family out of the doorway. Sandor nodded, thumb wiping a stray tear off his daughter’s cheek. His wife was right, as always. It seemed their daughter spent more time dancing than anything else.

“C’mon love, why don’t you tell me and mama what’s running through your pretty little head, hmm?” Sandor tapped her forehead and lifted her chin with his other hand. Sansa crouched beside him, brow furrowed. Their daughter crossed and uncrossed her arms, stomped her feet a little and whined, again,

“I wanna go home, please Daddy! Mama please!” Sandor noticed a few parents glance over, some sympathetic and others unimpressed. Tossers. 

“Isla, we aren’t going anywhere with you acting like this. Talk to us love.” The little girl whimpered, finally looking into Sandor’s eyes again. She looked over at Sansa, back to him and then finished by glaring at the floor. Sansa shifted beside him, either impatient or uncomfortable, he wasn’t sure. He knew his knees were screaming at him to stand, but he was 12 years older than her and didn’t regularly attend yoga or pilates or whatever the fuck she went to.

“Are you nervous sweetie?” Sansa suggested, “If you are that’s okay. That’s perfectly normal.” Sandor nodded, again. Isla took one step closer to her father, then another. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and tucked her face into his neck, murmured something so quietly he missed it. He glanced at Sansa, eyebrows raised. She shrugged her shoulders and stood up, shaking her left knee as she did. 

Sandor nudged Isla with his chin, “want to try that again love? Didn’t quite catch it.” He wrapped his arms around her and waited. When she finally spoke, he swore he felt something inside him break.

“I’m scared Daddy. What if I’m no good?” Her little fingers pulled at the collar of his jacket, as if trying to dig herself in and hide. He sighed, squeezed her tight and then leaned back to look at her face. She wasn’t quite as angry anymore but her face was still red. Her teeth were digging into her lip again and her eyes were wide. He thumbed at her lip until she let it go.

“But you are bub. You’re the best one in the class.” That wasn’t exactly the truth but her teacher had said she was pretty good at learning new steps, whatever steps they taught five and six year old kids. Isla looked furtively towards her mother and leaned in close to Sandor’s ear. 

“I’m not as good as Mama was.” Ah. There it was, the reason she’d barely spoken to Sansa the whole week. Catelyn had pulled out old tapes of Sansa and Arya dancing when they were young over the past weekend, thinking it would be nice for Isla to see how similar they all were. Apparently it had done the opposite. “I don’t want to siss…diss… be bad in front of her and auntie and nana.” Her speech slipped up more when she was flustered. Sandor sighed, pulled her in for a tight hug and stood up with her in his arms. Sansa’s eyebrows twitched in confusion. She hadn’t heard their daughter’s confession, and Sandor thought maybe that was for the best. She knew what it was to disappoint her mother and tried her damnedest to make sure Isla never felt that way.

“Isla, you could never disappoint Mama, or any one of us. Everyone is here to see you shine like only you can, hey?” He rubbed her back as he murmured in her ear, thinking of the way her eyes glittered when she smiled, and the warmth of her laugh. “No one will be thinking about how anyone but you dances when you’re up on that stage, and after we’ll have a nice dinner where we celebrate you.” He kissed her cheek and hoped it worked. She lifted her face from his scarred neck and looked him in the eye.

“Daddy how do you know? Can you promise?” Christ, where was this insecurity coming from? He’d never seen it before, and he knew it wasn’t from Sansa. Of all the things to pass down to his daughter, of course it’d be this shit.

“Yeah I can love. And so can Mama.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and put her back down on the ground, nudging her towards Sansa. She stumbled over to her mother, who knelt back down to give her a hug.

“You want to tell me what’s going on peanut, or is it between you and daddy?” God bless this woman. He hated when they had secrets between them, and Sansa was just the opposite. 

“Will you still be proud of me if I’m no good today Mama?” Isla shifted her feet and Sansa leaned back, surprised.

“Oh Isla, of course I will. There’s nothing you can do that would ever change that. Is – Do you,” Sansa rarely stuttered or sounded unsure, but Isla’s confession had clearly shaken her. She coughed and tried again, “Isla, I love you no matter how you dance. I can’t wait to see you have fun up there today.” She smiled, kissed her on the cheek. Isla took in a deep breath and pulled her mom in for another hug. There was a quiet moment between the two of them while Sandor looked on.

“I’m sorry I almost called you stupid Mama. I don’t think you are.” 

“Thank you for apologizing sweetie. Good thing Daddy was waiting, hey?” The two of them looked at Sandor, Sansa shot him a smile and a wink. He raised an eyebrow,  
“It’s what I’m here for innit?” Isla giggled, the sweetest sound he’d heard all day. Her eyes were brighter than before. “Alright missy, think you’re about ready to go?” Sandor wasn’t actually sure where she was supposed to be at this point, or when Sansa and him were supposed to leave her with her instructor. He looked around, noticed there was considerably fewer parents and children loitering in the area. Isla wiped at her face, nodding. Sansa stood up, holding her hand.

“Right, let’s go find Miss Osha then, hmm? Daddy and I have to go find our seats so we can watch you!” Sandor followed the pair down a hallway, thinking less about the pint he might’ve had and more about how he got so lucky with his two girls.

***

“Oh finally. Where have you two been?” Catelyn’s face seemed a bit more pinched than normal.

“Had a bit of an tantrum in the loo. Had to work it out before we left her.” Sansa sidled in beside her mother, Sandor trailing just behind her. Sandor waved to her siblings further down the row, leaned over Sansa to give Catelyn a kiss on the cheek. 

“Oh?” Catelyn looked expectedly at Sansa, probably thinking of ways Sansa should have dealt with Isla’s outburst, thought Sandor darkly.

“Just some stage fright,” he grunted as he tried to make himself comfortable in the seats built for men smaller than he. He eyed Arya’s flask and wondered if he could get away with knicking it for a sip. Sansa placed her hand on his thigh and smiled back at her mother,

“Yeah, nothing to worry about Mum. Oh, just wait until you see her on stage, their costumes are just adorable.” Catelyn and Sansa fell into a conversation over dance costumes which he tuned out in favour of playing with her fingers in his lap. How did her hands stay so bloody soft all the time? His were rough, years of burns and blisters hardening his palms. He marveled at how delicate her hand looked in his, still hadn’t gotten used to it after all these years. The lights dimmed and Sansa cut off her conversation with an excited gasp and gripped his hand between both of hers. 

Rickon snorted, “Sansa, you know she isn’t on for like.. another hour right?” He said, wagging the program in his hand. Sandor had overheard some of Isla’s classmates parents discussing it. 

“It’s her first recital Rickon, let me have this,” she whispered to him as the spotlights angled down to the stage. She settled in her seat, leaning on Sandor’s shoulder.

“He’s right, you know. We could probably sneak out and find a nice closet and wouldn’t even miss a thing.” Sandor muttered into her ear, bumping her arm with his elbow. She snorted and turned to look at him,

“As charming as that sounds, I think a few people would notice.” She nipped at his ear anyways before her voice quieted, “besides, hearing my daughter basically say she thinks I won’t love her if she can’t dance? Not exactly quickie in a closet material.” He pulled his hand free from hers, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in to kiss her temple. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, or an attempt at comforting and she shook her head at him. “I love you, and I love that you’re about to tell me that she didn’t say that, but that’s what she meant. I know.” She ticked her head back towards Catelyn and gave him a sad smile. He frowned and she pressed her lips to his jaw for a moment. She whispered “It’s okay,” in his ear and settled back in to her seat to watch some group of five year old’s shuffle their tap shoes across the stage in front of them. He huffed, accepting that she wouldn’t talk it about again until they were out of the concert hall, maybe not even until they were in bed at the end of the night.

***  
“Rickon, where did you put the bouquet? You didn’t leave it in there did you?”  
“No, Mum, I gave it to Arya to hold on to while I was in the toilet. Relax, Christ.”  
“Here you are mumsy, a perfect bouquet to give to a kid who doesn’t know the difference between a sunflower and a dandelion.”  
“Watch it.” Sandor had stayed with the Starks while Sansa went to find Isla and bring her out. He was easier to spot and had no desire to be in a crowded space filled with sweaty kids and antsy parents trying to bother their instructors for some last minute thing. “She knows her flowers.” Isla spent far too much time dancing in fields they came across and doodling on every paper in the house to not know her flowers. Arya rolled her eyes at him and passed the bouquet to Catelyn. Sandor’s brow twitched and Arya caught it.  
“What? Are they not the right kind of flowers?”  
He scoffed, more to buy some time before he made himself wildly uncomfortable.  
“No, that’s not it, it’s just..” he paused, looked past their heads to see if Sansa and Isla were nearby. Catelyn and Arya stared at him while Rickon was looking at his phone. “Isla was beside herself when she heard Arya was coming, I think she’d like to get the flowers from her. I.. Sorry Catelyn.” He didn’t know what to expect from either of them. Catelyn started, eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. Or they tried to at least. Arya looked surprised, but took it in stride.  
“Fuckin’ rights, knew I was her favourite. My time to shine Mum!” She plucked the flowers out of her mother’s arms and kissed her on the cheek for good measure. “You’ve had your time in the spotlight, now this little nugget is mine.”

He hadn’t quite expected that. Catelyn recovered, smiling at Sandor. “It was bound to happen at some point wasn’t it? At one point or another you all favoured Benjen over your father.” She seemed weirdly okay with it all but Sandor still wanted to bring it up with Sansa later. Christ, there was a lot of things to bring up later today.

Rickon looked up from his phone and nodded towards Sandor. “I think I see Sansa heading over.” He locked his phone and stretched his arms above his head. “Fuckin’ hell those recitals take forever. Haven’t sat through one since you were competing in one I think,” he nudged Arya. It was true, Sansa hadn’t asked any of her family to come to Isla’s earlier recitals, which were held in the studio and the parents crammed into small plastic chairs to watch their kids dance. Catelyn, of course, always made an appearance. Arya snorted,

“Please, I don’t think you came to more than five recitals or competitions. Mum gave up far earlier with you than she did with Bran.”

Sandor turned around from the bickering siblings and saw Sansa’s red hair coming his way. She didn’t look too flustered, and her mouth perked up when he caught her eye. Sandor could tell when Isla saw her family when Sansa laughed and started walking faster. Soon enough, Sandor felt his daughter’s small arms wrap around his frame.

“Did you see me Daddy! Did you see? Did you like it Daddy? What about my dance costume, isn’t it pretty! Did we all look really good?” Christ, was she the same kid from before? Sandor knelt down to pick up the five year old and lift her into a tight hug.

“Yeah bubs, you did amazing. You all looked incredible, but you,” he tapped her nose with his finger, “looked the best. Did you have fun?” He asked, a subtle reminder of their conversation from before. Isla grinned, whole mouth sort of thing, and nodded. 

“Yes Daddy, it was lots of fun!!” He smiled and kissed her on the forehead,

“Good baby, that’s good. Now I think some other people are here to see you too.” He put her back on the ground and stepped aside so she could see Rickon, Arya and Cat. Her face lit up even more, if possible and she raised her arms in excitement. Arya cracked a smile and knelt down with her arms open, 

“Come here, you little nugget,” and Isla threw herself at her aunt. “You just might be one of the best dancers I’ve ever seen.” Isla giggled and Sandor felt Sansa at his side. “No, I mean it, you were incredible up there. Here, look, we even got you some flowers to celebrate just how good you are!” Arya showed her the bouquet and everyone saw Isla light up.

“These… these are for me? They’re so pretty!” Isla’s eyes flitted between her parents and her aunt. “Mama, did you see! Look at the pretty colours!”

Sansa smiled, “I saw baby. I know, they’re lovely, just like you.” Isla blushed and hugged Arya and the flowers. Sandor turned his head into Sansa’s hair as Catelyn and Rickon congratulated his daughter as well. 

“How was she when you found her,” he murmured in her ear while everyone else was preoccupied.

“Good. Seems to have forgotten the whole meltdown, but it might just be the excitement. Charlotte’s mum brought cupcakes for the kids and I think she had more than her fair share. She was a bit off the walls, to be honest.” Sansa leaned in to Sandor’s side, slipping her arm around his waist, seeking a quiet reprieve from the crowd around her. He thought back to wishing he was at the pub and kicked himself. Christ, Sansa was stronger than he would ever be.

“And how about you, love? You sure about dinner with this lot?” he dropped his voice even lower, “could always dip out and head home for a nice soak in the tub.”

Sansa hummed, fingertips skirting the hem of his shirt, then shook her head. “It’ll be nice for her, for mum to have dinner as a family. Besides, they have that wine we like so much.” He squeezed her arm and dropped another kiss on her temple. 

“Alright, you’re the boss lady.” 

Sansa laughed and shook her head, “try telling your daughter that.” Isla was trying to show Rickon and Arya a few steps of her routine and was mucking it up a bit, but the two adults were eating it up. Catelyn was looking on fondly, holding the flowers and getting it on her phone. “Don’t think we’re in charge of anything anymore baby.” Sansa stepped out of Sandor’s embrace and into Isla’s periphery. Isla paused and turned to face her mother, who grabbed her already outstretched hand and gave her a little spin. Isla giggled, which was one of Sandor’s favourite sounds on the entire planet. Christ, he could listen to that all fucking day. 

“Again Mama, please! Do it again!” Sansa tossed her hair back and gave Isla another spin. The little girl stumbled out of the spin and bumped up against Arya’s legs. She laughed, again. Arya patted her head and Isla beamed under the attention. Catelyn cleared her throat and subtly glanced at her watch.

“Might be a bit of a zoo getting out of here, and I don’t want to be late for the reservation.” She at least looked apologetic for interrupting Isla’s moment. The little girl’s face fell slightly at the thought of leaving the hall where it seemed like everyone’s eyes were always on her. Cat did have a point though.

“Right,” said Sandor, “let’s get you in the car so we can go have a victory dinner!” He walked up to Isla and picked her up in one fell swoop, lifting her above his head for a brief moment before bringing her down to rest on his hip. “Cheering you on has worked up quite the appetite, peanut.” He pretended to bite at her nose and she laughed, turning her head into his shoulder. He took the flowers from Arya and gave them to Isla to hold. “Should we just meet you there then?” He looked at Rickon and Arya, wondering if he had the energy in him to sit in a car with them all. Rickon and Arya nodded.

“See you in a minute, nugget.” Arya ruffled Isla’s hair before taking Catelyn’s hand and leading her to the exit. “Come on mum, let’s get you out of here.”

Sandor exhaled and felt a bit of tension in his shoulders that he wasn’t aware of loosen. “Think you can walk to the car Isla?” He really didn’t want to carry her the whole way if he didn’t have to. She nodded and he put her back on the ground. “Stay close to Mama and me, okay? It’s pretty crowded in here.” Sansa slipped her hand into his, and placed her hand on Isla’s head.

“You can hold my hand if you want to.” Isla did her one better and wrapped an arm around Sansa’s thigh. His wife laughed, eyes twinkling. “Or you could do that! As long as you don’t slow us down, okay missy-moo.” The small family joined the slow moving throng and found their way to their car.

Sandor opened the backseat and lifted his daughter into her booster seat. As Sansa stood in front of the car chatting with one of Isla’s friends parents, Sandor had a quiet moment with the 6 year old. “You did so good up there today. Me and mama are so proud of you, you know?” He tightened her seat belt as he spoke quietly to her.

“Thanks daddy. I’m sorry I was so mean before I danced.” Ah, so she hadn’t forgot.  
“Thank you for apologizing. Sometimes I can be mean when I’m scared about something too.” Bit of an understatement if you asked just about anyone he knew. Isla shook her head, 

“Daddy you’re not mean.” Then she did just about the cutest thing she could, and cupped his face with her small hands and pressed a kiss to his nose. “You don’t know how to be mean.” Sandor smiled and returned her kiss on the nose.  
“Only when I’m around you, eh bubs.” Sandor ducked out of the back seat and closed the door. He jerked his hand in Sansa’s direction, “C’mon love, we’ll be late if we stay any longer.”

Sansa said a quick farewell to Shae and slipped into the passenger seat as Sandor turned the car on. Once they were on the road, Sansa slipped her hand over Sandor’s on the console. She leaned back against the head rest and let out a breath. “How long do you think this dinner will take? Do you think we can get away without Mum getting misty-eyed about Dad, or Arya pressing her about Jon?” Sandor snorted,

“Unlikely. We can use Little Miss Sunshine back there as a getaway. All that sugar and excitement in one day? She’ll be out before she finishes her plate.” He took his eyes off the road to look at their daughter in the backseat, staring out the window and humming to herself. Sansa hummed and rolled her neck. 

“Good. I’d love to get her tucked in a bit earlier than normal. Could go for that soak you mentioned.” Sandor lifted their hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers. 

***  
Well, all things considered the dinner could have been much worse. Wasn’t the best, but they’d certainly sat through longer, tenser meals as a family. Thankfully Isla was blissfully unaware as she’d curled up on her seat soon after finishing her chocolate milk and chips. Sandor had carried her from the car and with Sansa’s help, replaced her glittery dance costume contraption with her pyjamas without waking her up. Sandor backed out of the small bedroom and shooed Lady away from the doorway. Sansa clicked her tongue at the dog and Lady followed her back to the kitchen. He shut the bedroom light off and slowly walked into the kitchen. There was a glass of red wine on the counter and one in Sansa’s hand. 

“Thank fucking Christ this day is over. There’s no way it was this exhausting for my parents.” She tipped her glass back and swallowed a third of her wine. She looked at him, nonplussed. Sandor lifted his hands, striding towards the counter. 

“Couldn’t tell you love, but I imagine you’re right. At least we got to dip out early.” He sipped at his own wine as Sansa stared into her cup, shaking her head. She was going to start pacing.

“She’s my mother, and I know she loves us unconditionally, but some days she makes it really, fucking, hard to remember that.” She sighed, walked from the sink to the doorway. “I mean, she knows we put Isla in dance because she wanted to do it and that we don’t expect her to compete like I did, so then why does she always bring it up? She said it was a good idea when we first thought about it!” On her second lap of the kitchen she put her glass down and ran both hands through her hair. “Why does it feel like I have to run every decision we make about Isla by her, yet she can do whatever she wants with our daughter?”

Sandor sipped at his wine again, certain she was just rambling and not actually looking for an answer. From him, the man who had never had to ‘run a decision’ by anyone until they moved in together. 

“Would you please say something so I don’t feel like a crazy, angry person?” Sansa was in front of him, grabbing his glass out of his hand and finishing his wine. Sandor smiled and wrapped his arms loosely around her,

“You are a phenomenal mother, and an amazing daughter and a fan-fucking-tastic lay.” Sansa blushed, only a few shades lighter than her hair. “And I love you, so very much. We’ve got Cat’s only grandchild in the city now love, and the best one at that. She’s just attached and maybe a little over involved.” Sandor kissed her, hard. “Now, do you want to keep having the same conversation we always have about your mother, or can we get in the tub?”

***  
“Baby, this tub is the best idea you’ve ever had,” Sansa hummed as she reclined into Sandor’s chest. Sandor smiled and ran his hand up her arm.

“Think you might’ve been the best idea I ever had.” Sansa smiled and twisted her neck to kiss the back of his hand. He shifted so he sunk lower in the tub, his chin just above her ear. “But you do look good in this tub, so I’ll take the compliment.” Sandor nipped her ear and began to kiss his way down her neck as his hand moved to cup her breast. Sansa hummed again, lower this time.

“Even with all those bubbles blocking the view?” Sansa’s hand sifted through the lavender scented bubbles on top of the water and brought a clump of them towards her chest. His fingertips dusted along her nipple, his second hand coming up to play with her other breast. She let out a breath as she felt him harden against her back. 

“Mm, even with all the bubbles.” His voice was gruffer as he pinched her nipple and felt her legs slide against each other under the water. A small laugh, followed by a hitch in her breath. Christ, he loved how sensitive she was. Had always been. He worked her up to a few pitchy huffs and moans before he slid his hand down her stomach. 

“Fucking, please Baby,” her head had rolled onto his shoulder and she was mouthing at his neck. He slipped a finger inside and she exhaled. “God it’s been too long.” He hummed an agreement and circled her clit with his thumb but avoided touching it. Sansa’s hands had wandered to his lower thighs and she pushed his knees out so her legs could fall open. She licked at the scarred skin between his beard and his ear, where no hair ever grew. “C’mon,” she sighed against his cheek, “stop teasing me.” 

He rubbed his other thumb against her nipple, the same way she liked it against her cunt. “But that’d take the fun out of it wouldn’t it, sunshine?” She whined as she pushed her body up against his lower hand. 

“I can think of a few other fun things to do,” Sansa said, losing any bite her words might have had as she tried to keep a low moan in her throat. His thumb had grazed over her clit. A little less teasing.

Sandor hummed again. He worked at her underwater, the lavender bubbles obstructing any view he had of her body. The bubbles that were moving with her body as she reacted to his handiwork. Her arms alternated between gripping the sides of the tub to running alongside his to reaching for his face to turn his mouth to hers. 

He licked into her mouth as she gasped at his second hand moving down her stomach. He could hardly call it kissing as she was more or less panting into his mouth, occasionally moaning a word.

He could feel her core tightening around his fingers. He slowed his movements down, brought a hand up to cup her cheek. Her heart rate slowed, slightly. Her eyebrows narrowed as she realized what he’d done.

“No, baby, no. You pushed for this obscenely large tub, now show me why you fucking wanted it.” She tried to grind her body down onto his hand. A small smile grew on Sandor’s face as he removed his hand from her cunt.

“I’m not going to fuck you in this perfectly sized tub because I can’t get my mouth on you underwater. C’mon. Up you get love, I’m carrying you to bed.” He kissed the hollow of her neck and nudged her up. Sansa let out a frustrated sigh but stood up and stepped out of the tub. She turned to say something to him, but the words never came. He had followed her movements with his eyes and his intense stare brought her up short. Her mouth felt very dry. He muttered something that sounded like a prayer under his breath and got out of the tub quickly. “Right,” he said, “let’s get you in bed.” He bent his knees slightly to wrap his arms under her legs and lifted her up with ease. Sansa smiled and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Yes sir,” she whispered as her fingers wound their way into his hair. She kissed him, hard, as he walked them out of their ensuite and into their room. 

As Sandor laid her down on the bed and took in the beauty in front of him, he kicked himself for ever thinking he’d rather be at the pub than with her.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for reading! This is the first fic I've written and tbh I'm not even sure if it's really done/any good, but I am generally my own worst critic.. until the internet goes off on me i guess.


End file.
